


Christmas In July

by Em_313



Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Caretaking, Drunken Shenanigans, F/M, Mild Language, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 17:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15320073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Em_313/pseuds/Em_313
Summary: Newlyweds Jack and Kat are awakened by a chorus of enthusiastic drunken carolers.





	Christmas In July

**July 1900**

Jack had never been as comfortable as he was laying in bed with Kat. He laid on his side, one hand cupped under his head and the other resting on Kat’s hip. Cool night air, finally a temporary relief from the heat, drifted in through the window, and street light mixed with moonlight cast fuzzy shadows over them.

Jack matched his sleeping wife’s slow, deep breaths. His _wife_. He still couldn’t believe a street rat like him was in a feather bed with a beautiful genius like her. His eyes drifted shut as he snuggled deeper into the covers, pulling a sleeping Kat into his bare chest.

 

Glass shattered outside and Jack jerked awake. Someone was outside. There was a shout--a man’s voice, maybe a boy. Someone was outside.

“What?” he swung his feet over the side of the bed and cautiously stood up. Should he go to the window? His heart was pounding.

“Jack, baby,” Kat mumbled into the pillow. “Come back.”

“Somethin’ happenin’.”

“You hear everything.” She rolled over. “Go to sleep.”

A friendly whoop echoed in the street--closer than before, Jack thought.

A whole chorus of voices belted. “We wish you a Merry Christmas! We wish you a Merry Christmas! We wish ya a Merry Christmas!”

Jack threw the window open. “Who in da fresh hell?” he shouted. “It’s 2 o’clock in the damn morning!”

He stuck his head out the window and squinted at the group on the sidewalk, who were still chanting “We wish ya a Merry Christmas! We wish ya a Merry Christmas!”

It was his brothers: Race, tall and blonde, and grinning Crutchie. Specs had his arms thrown around Finch and Tommy, the trio swaying slightly.

“Jack.” Kat said. “Sleep.”

“It’s the fellas.” Jack said. “Theys all gone and got drunk.” And they were still singing. He leaned back out the window. “Ah, shut up!”

“Ya ain’t never heard of Christmas in July, Jackie?” Race called back.

They were going to get themselves killed with all that ruckus. Jack sighed, sat back down on the end of the bed, and fumbled around for his shoes. “I’ll be right back, Sugar.” he told Kat. “Go back to sleep.”

He padded down the stairs, through the hall, and opened the front door of their brownstone.

“Jack! Jack! Hey Jackie!” the boys shouted the second he stepped outside.

“You idiots are gonna wake the neighbors.” he said. He pulled the door shut behind him and joined the pack on the sidewalk.

Crutchie stumbled towards him and put a hand on Jack’s arm. “Aw, lighten up, Jackie.” He said.

“We’s just havin’ some fun.” Finch said. "Ha! You don't even have a shirt on." 

“What have y’all been drinking?” Jack asked. “And where the hell did ya even get it?”

“Davey’s friend…” Tommy said. “Ya know, an old buddy of his from school….had a birthday party, ya know. And we didn’t go to the party, ya know, but Davey came over to the lodge to say hey, ya know, and brought us some, uh, cider.”

“And whiskey!” Finch added. His face was pink with heat and drunkenness. “Irish whiskey! Whoo!” he threw his arms into the air.

“Shhh!” Jack shushed him. “For Pete’s sake, it’s the middle of the night.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Jack thinks he can mother hen us cause he’s a married man now.” He waved a hand at Jack. “We’re fine, Ma!” Specs laughed loudly. Specs thought everything was funny when he was drunk.

“Shut up.” Jack said. He just wanted to go back to bed.

Race had wandered away from the group and was having a staring contest with a lamp post.

“Racer?” Jack said. “Racer, ya alright?”

Race put his hands on his knees and puked over the curb. Specs laughed again, and Jack groaned. Crutchie, whose coordination wasn’t stellar sober, limped over to Race and awkwardly patted his back.

Jack heard the door open behind him.

“Plums!” Finch cheered.

Kat stood on the steps, the front door open behind her, barefoot and wrapped in a grey bathrobe over her nightgown. “What in the world are you boys up to?”

“They went to a party.” Jack said, shaking his head.

“Well, c’mon, let’s all go inside.” Kat said.

Specs grinned. “Ya sure?”

“Sure,” Kat said. “I’ll get some pillows and blankets for ya boys, you can sleep it off in the parlor.”

“Hey, fellas.” Finch said as Race and Crutchie stumbled back towards the house. “Wes having a sleepover.”

“Don’t say sleepover, nitwit.” Tommy said. “Ya sound like a little girl.”

“Boys.” Kat crossed her arms over her chest. “Bed. Let’s go to bed.”

She shepherded them to the narrow couch and the boys sat in a row like ducklings while Kat got them water and Jack rifled through their trunk for extra blankets. Hell, the boys could sleep in their bed if it meant he and Kat could get some shut eye.

He thumped back down the steps with an arm full of pillows. “Look alive.” he tossed one at Specs, who blinked and watched the pillow fall to his feet.

Specs and Race, the tallest two, sprawled out on the floor. Tommy and Finch refused to move from the couch, so they slept head-to-foot, and Crutchie curled up in a chair.

“Goodnight, fellas.” Crutchie said, pulling a blanket over him.

“Sorry ‘bout everything, Jack.” Race mumbled into the rug. “Thanks for the water, Kat.”

“Yeah,” Finch was also starting to sober up. “Didn’t mean to wake ya.”

Kat yawned and leaned against Jack. “Get some sleep, boys. I’ll make ya real strong coffee in the morning.”

Jack held Kat’s hand as they climbed the steps to their bedroom. “Hey, Kitten, remind me to kill Davey next time I see ‘em.”

**Author's Note:**

> (is it weird to say "tag yourself as a drunk newsie?"  
> Okay, tag yourself as a drunk newsie. I'm Sober Mom Friend Kat, or rambly Tommy/giggly Specs after like 2 drinks)
> 
> Thanks for reading/reviewing! Check out my other Newsies nonsense/angst. The Storyteller is still being updated often! :)


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